


Scars are Souvenirs we Never Lose

by TheCarrot



Series: Ahoy-hoy... [1]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Cutesy, Ezekiel Jones (mentioned) - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Jacob Stone (mentioned) - Freeform, Rarepair, Science Fluff, librarian shipathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 01:13:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15085772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/pseuds/TheCarrot
Summary: Cassandra can do the math, that's never been the problem.





	Scars are Souvenirs we Never Lose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohHeyThereBigBadWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ohHeyThereBigBadWolf).



> For 'Ohheybigbadwolf' on Tumblr!! Who asked for Cassie/Frankie. I hope this is okay, and I'm sorry this took so long!

Cassandra can do the math.

That’s never been her issue. She sees figures and numbers any and everywhere she looks. Sometimes she can ignore it, sometimes it’s all that keeps her sane in their world.

Sometimes it makes her cringe as much on the outside as it does on the inside.

Like now for instance...

Sitting, shoved into the small corner booth, her allotted one light beer in hand, with Frankenstein’s Mon- (“Guys, you remember Frankie, now play nice.” Ezekiel had stated before plopping beers down in front of everyone and sliding in beside the burly man.) -with Frankie sitting across from her.

Frankie sits quietly, stoic and silent amongst the loud noise of the bar, only this time the sound waves are doing their best to make Cassandra want to claw her eyes out. 

The lines are dizzying and she follows them aimlessly until she find herself focusing in on a different kind of math. On different lines than before.

Cassandra knows she should look away, knows how impolite she’s being but the distraction is exactly what she needs right now and the rest of the bar fades into the background and the sound waves and bass lines disappear from her vision.

It takes Cassandra a moment to pull herself out of the recurring math loop that’s going on inside her head, but without Jacob there to help guide her out it takes longer than she wants it too before she eventually manages to ground herself solely in the present. 

It’s only as she draws back in on herself that Cassandra realizes what she had been staring at. Age old bruises and timeless scars that will likely never fade; brown eyes that can tell of secrets to death she never wanted to know about but was so close to experiencing. 

The silence feels suffocating and now that she’s focused on them, Cassandra can’t help but keep the scars in her focus. She has so many questions, so many thoughts and equations floating through her head that the Librarian has to bite her lip to keep from asking when she looks up to meet his eyes.

Frankie meets her gaze but doesn’t chastise her for her looks, merely watches her back with a curious look on his own face.

“Did they hurt?” The words fall out of Cassandra despite herself and she grimaces. She knows she’s not one to ask the stupid questions... and Cass knows they had to have, she doesn’t need to ask.

“Not at all.” Frankie smiles back at her softly and Cassandra perks up at the calm expression in surprise. “In the greatest of sense that lies in the universe, I was not yet alive when in this life I was immersed; the marvel of science, at that time, had not yet bestowed upon me the curse of conscience.”

Red hair falls over her shoulders as Cassandra leans closer over the table. “Can you tell me about it?” She’s read about it in Mary Shelley’s book but there’s no substitute for first hand experience. Her never ending love of things she’s never gotten to see, driving her to ask even the callous question.

He must see something on her face, because Frankie does, his own boiler maker of beer going warm in his hand as he informs the intently focused woman in front of him of everything he can remember. He speaks expecting a recoil, but as he draws forth more and more of Victors work that had gone into his creation, she only seems more and more entralled. 

Frankie’s never seen a spark like that in anyone’s eye when they’ve been looking at him; save Victors, but that had had more than a passing semblance of madness in it. However Cassandra’s shine with all the knowledge of the universe, like she knows exactly what he’s describing as he speaks. 

The librarian finds herself leaning more and more over the table to listen and Cassandra can’t help the way she interjects with questions. Only where the boys would have normally gotten lost or confused by now, she finds Frankie smiling at her, answering them and adding more stories to give her brain the best picture she thinks she’s ever seen of something so dark.

She can see every knife mark, every scalpel incision, the depth and the length of the scars she can see.... she can count the hesitation marks that dot along his neck. 

They’re horrific, but amazing. 

“Would you like to accompany me for a cup of tea?” Frankie asks holding up his empty glass.

Cassandra takes a moment, looking out over the crowd for Jake and Ezekiel, but Stone is flirting with a woman by the bar and Ezekiel has just plain disappeared, so she grins widely and they climb to their feet.

The walk along the streets of Amsterdam at night are always one of Cassandra’s favourite things. Plus it’s doesn’t hurt that it’s romantic as all pony and she knows if she doesn’t stop smiling soon her face is going to freeze in it’s current dopey expression.

Frankie listens to her when she derails the conversation to try and describe the idea behind the idiom but they both just laugh into their tea and pastries. 

“We are both children of Science Cassandra Cillian, where religion and deity’s have foresaken us, we turn to the makings of the universe for our answers.” Frankie sighs quietly, his breath turning white in the cool night air. It’s poetic and corny and Cassandra loves every second of it.

\--

The next morning Cassandra can’t help the way her eyes follow some of Frankie scars up close. The larger man lays on his back, eyes closed against the early morning light and hand pressed warmly to the cool skin of her back.

It takes Frankie a few moments of feeling her gaze on him to actually break the silence. “A query on your mind?”

“Not really,” Cassandra signs, dropping her chin against sleep warm skin, “Just thinking of a six inch incision with a two inch depth, cut by a 2 millimeter scalpel...” Frankie opens dark brown eyes to look up at her. “I’m thinking just shy of 364 minutes fighting to remove a tumour with a diameter of 42.7 millimeters....”

Her voice cracks as she reaches back around her head, parting her hair to bare the long thin scar there to curious eyes. 

Where Frankies scars are obvious to the naked eye, her’s hide. Just like her tumour had. Quiet... under the surface but with so much impact on her life. 

The created man falls silent for a moment before he whispers quietly, “However far modern science and techniques have fallen short of their inherent possibilities, they have taught mankind at least one lesson; that nothing is impossible.”

Cassandra cocks her head to the side, letting go of her hair to fall back into it’s disarrayed state. “Lewis Mumford?”

“Indeed.” Frankie smiles, brushing a stray strand behind her ear as he leans forward to press his lips against her forehead. Against one end of her scar. “We are both the impossible Cassandra. We did what science told us we couldn’t... we lived.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to prompt me whatever here or in tumblr!! All rare pairs, all weeks, all whatever!


End file.
